


Simply Bodies

by DunmerLover



Series: Simply Bodies [1]
Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: D-class personnel - Freeform, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Graphic Description of Corpses, Human Experimentation, Information redacted, Medical Examination, No Fluff, No Romance, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-23 21:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18157364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DunmerLover/pseuds/DunmerLover
Summary: A D-class is offered to SCP-049 as part of routine testing, and things don't go quite as expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So some genius in a vaguely horror-related Discord server I'm in shared the photo of SCP-049 and it was the first time I actually saw it (I only had a vague awareness of him before that) and _holy hell he's fucking hot_ , so this isn't _directly_ my fault. All it took was an idea, and suddenly this abomination here was a thing.
> 
> I feel like I could leave it as the 1 part but there's so many implications to this, I feel compelled to explore them so this continues for a little. 
> 
> Also kind of _really_ nervous uploading this because it's not like anything I've written up to now and also maybe because I wanna do this character justice. Doing a rush job on his dialogue won't turn out well.
> 
> On that note this was meant to be 1 whole chapter but decided to split the content up because I didn't want to rush the stuff that's coming up.
> 
> There is no romance here. I didn't want to pretend that 049 is anything other than what he is. Please be aware of tags, this will not be nice. It's nothing other than my own personal fantasy and I don't in any way endorse this kind of stuff, if that wasn't already a given.
> 
> That being said, hope someone out there maybe enjoys this.

D-class personnel didn’t know a damn thing within the walls of the facility. That’s how it was, and how it would always be. They weren’t there to contribute their knowledge, they were simply bodies - there to follow orders, and more often than not, die as a result of them - and whatever they did learn they were soon enough forced to forget.

As the guards led D-22560 through the corridors of the facility, the barrels of at least two firearms lodged painfully in the small of her back, urging her to move on, the girl was decidedly among the ones who knew of nothing in the Foundation beyond their shared cells and the - from their perspective - seemingly arbitrary commands they were given. She didn’t know where the guards were taking her, all she knew was that they were going _somewhere_. What part she would play in whatever scene was about to unfold, she had no idea.

But there was one thing D-22560 was certain of. She was being led to her death.

Her number was up. Turnover was always high among D-class. None had been at the facility longer than a single month, not that D-22560 had seen, and now something of a veteran compared to her many cellmates, she knew she wouldn’t be either.

She let them prod her along without complaint or resistance. In fact, D-22560 didn’t say a single word for the duration. Even from where she’d been housed in her cell, she’d often hear D-class pleading, crying, sometimes screaming for their lives when they walked the journey to the gallows as she did now. For any other fate than this. Sometimes she’d hear them begging in the dead of night - apparently tests were still carried out at those hours. It never made a difference. So whether she wanted to die with some level of dignity, or because she was simply far too terrified to speak, D-22560 said nothing.

The three guards chatted among themselves, shared a few jokes, and laughed as though it wasn’t the SCP Foundation they worked in, but an office or a convenience store. As though they weren’t walking a human being, only twenty-two years old, to the end of their life. How many times they must’ve done this over the years… it must desensitise them, D-22560 thought to herself as their party came to a halt. One of the guards opened a door with the swipe of a keycard, and another shoved the girl through.

The room was sterile, clinical. There was a funny smell, unpleasant, but after a quick scan of the small, dark room, D-22560 couldn’t tell where it was coming from. At a wide desk against an even wider wall, two men sat, and they turned expectantly at the sound of the door opening. One - the older - stood and approached while the other continued typing on a tablet. Now somewhat trained to do so, D-22560 held out her left hand in a fist, palm to the floor. Wordlessly, the man - the researcher, her commander from here on out - took a small device to it which, with a beep, scanned the barcode tattooed on the girl’s hand.

Pale eyes swept over the screen of his own tablet. “D-22560,” he addressed the girl.

She nodded, frozen to the spot with dread. “Yes.”

“Confirm date of birth please?”

“██████… ███” she replied. Her eyes swept up to the wide wall, where a one-way mirror was fitted. It looked like a window on this side, looking into a larger room with a bright light inside.

“Please make your way into the containment chamber,” the researcher said, gesturing behind him to a door on the wide wall.

The guards trained their weapons on her as D-22560 approached. As the researcher opened the door for her, the girl was certain the hammering of her heart was audible in the quiet space.

She wasn’t ready to die.

The first thing D-22560 registered when she entered the room and the door shut behind was the smell. God above, the _fucking smell_. Like a heavy mist it hung thick in the air, it was overpowering. It smelled like warm, rotting meat. Dried, stale blood, so much of it, and the offensive tang of stomach acid, and so much more. It was unbearable. Had D-22560 anything in her stomach, she’d have vomited right then and there. Instead when she retched openly, she only coughed up saliva.

Though she made an effort to compose herself by clearing her throat, the sound of her gagging roused the figure sat hunched over _something_ on a desk against the far wall. In turn, when they raised their hooded head, D-22560’s attention was drawn to them for the first time… and to the source of the smell.

On what she now saw to be an operating table, it was obscured by the figure still sat there no longer working fervently - but it could be clearly identified as the naked corpse of a human being, lit up brightly by an adjustable lamp bent low over it. Even from where she stood, D-22560 could make out the deep incisions in the decaying flesh, some sutured shut and others still wide open, rank. How long the body had been dead… how long it had been in this chamber, she could only guess. Some higher-up would know.

The hooded figure placed something it had been holding on the table, stood, and turned to face the girl. A… _plague doctor_ , D-22560 thought to herself in mild surprise. She didn’t know _why_ that was any surprise to her, given the things she’d so far seen in this place, but somehow it was.

The figure blocked out the bright light from the lamp, throwing the chamber into relative darkness. Too dark and too far away to see, its eyes were hidden entirely in shadow but D-22560 could feel its gaze upon her, examining her, pinning her where she stood still trembling, heart still pounding. That unseen gaze made her feel quite sick, but with the persistent stench in the chamber it was hard to tell. She made out the shape of the thing amid the mass of black robes that covered it, noting broad shoulders - the plague doctor was apparently male.

He stalked closer, tilting his masked face in apparent question.

“SCP-049,” a male voice rang out sharply from a speaker somewhere up above and made D-22560 jump. “In response to your ongoing request for human subjects… we’ve arranged for you to make use of this D-class.”

The closer he came to the girl, the more the confusion was apparent in his avian face, and in his eyes. D-22560 looked up into them now that she could see. This man, this… SCP… dare she think his eyes were quite… handsome? Though inquisitive, they seemed to look upon her with some level of compassion.

“Your contributions to my work have been most generous, Doctor…” SCP-049 began with a somehow soothing voice, deep - again clearly masculine, an English accent. He faced the mirror- the window, addressing the two men outside despite probably still seeing his own reflection staring back. “But the Foundation has never before offered me two patients at once. There is much still to be learned from the last gentleman you kindly donated…”

With a sweep of an arm he gestured to the operating table and the festering corpse lying upon it. Right away it occurred to D-22560 what was going on. This was a test. They wanted to know how this thing, this... whatever he was, would react to the change.

“This woman’s due to be terminated,” the voice rang out a second time. SCP-049 turned his beak again to the mirror as he listened. “And we took a ‘the more the merrier’ approach with regards to your work. Isn’t she _at all_ useful to you?”

“Of course, of _course_ she will be of use!” SCP-049 responded animatedly. He spoke with his hands a lot. “You will have to forgive me, Doctor… I was merely remarking on the unusual situation. I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth…”

He turned his attention back to D-22560, and with a gloved hand beckoned her forwards, and with no other option, the girl obeyed, approaching her fate.

“We have so much to accomplish, you and I,” he said to her. “Your death shall not be in vain. You will take us one step closer to the Cure… to the salvation of all mankind.”

Before D-22560 knew what was happening, she felt the creature’s hand at her throat. Not to choke her, no… it was only a light touch, a gentle one, but still the girl stiffened ever further under it. Not a second later SCP-049’s grey eyes widened in amazement. He stared her down intently. The index and middle fingers moved a little to rest over her carotid artery, and for a few seconds more he simply felt her pulse, hard and fast, under his touch. Hard, fast, and most importantly, _still there_.

“Remarkable…” he said, his voice low.

He continued to stare, unmoving, and voices from outside the chamber became louder, more animated, almost arguing, and even if D-22560 was in a position to concentrate on them she wouldn’t make out what they were saying, not from in here.

_What’s going on? Is this not meant to happen?_

SCP-049 appeared hesitant as he withdrew his hand from the captive’s throat, and as if to confirm that she was actually there, stripped the girl quickly from her jumpsuit and bra and cast the latter aside, leaving D-22560 clothed only from the waist down, and he ran his right hand over her bare, olive skin. While the doctor’s eyes followed in fascination over the tracks his fingers made on her flesh, nothing else happened. The room was deathly silent, the researchers outside having since hushed themselves to concentrate on the unfolding scene.

As though suddenly more sure of his actions, SCP-049 raised a hand again, this time brushing aside chestnut bangs and resting the back of his hand on the captive’s forehead, and for a few seconds he deliberated. After that, rather excitedly it would seem, he forced her mouth open and peered inside. Was she being… was he _examining_ her? She could smell the viscera on his hands, feel it wet on her skin where he touched her, and she resisted the urge to gag again.

“You are afraid… are you not?” SCP-049 asked softly. He let go of the girl’s jaw so she could speak.

“...Yeah,” she replied simply, quietly. “I’m afraid.”

When SCP-049 reached downwards, grabbing at her armpits the girl had to stifle a cry of protest. Her hands came up to her arms, covering her breasts but the doctor promptly swatted them away. He resumed a meticulous search of her underarm area for… _something_.

“Why are you afraid?”

“I’m… afraid to die.”

“You are not afraid of _me_ , however…”

D-22560 shook her head a little. He was right, now she thought about it she _wasn’t_ afraid of him, and that shouldn’t be the case. But it was. “I don’t think so.”

“It was not a question,” SCP-049 said simply as his hands moved from her armpits and travelled down to her stomach. He palpated, reading her body like a book from her left to her right and moving down, watching her face as he did, and all she could do was let him. “I can see it in your every move, you are not afraid to be near me, you are… relaxed in my company in a way my other patients were not. Do you feel pain when I do this?”

“N-no, no pain.”

“Take that off,” he said, gesturing to the jumpsuit that hung at D-22560’s waist.

She obeyed, unlacing boots with trembling hands and stepping out of the orange jumpsuit, and when she stood up straight again, SCP-049 wasn’t in sight. He grabbed her from behind, with an impossible strength he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and chest, pressing her flush against his own body. The girl cried out in shock. He was warmer than expected, and despite the smell of the rotting corpse nearby, D-22560 remarked internally that the doctor himself smelled unwashed, but still clean, like an animal. His other hand was at the edge of her panties, fingers pressing into the join of her thigh, again looking for something.

All of a sudden he dropped to his knees. He kept hold of the girl as she fell with him onto his lap, one arm still around her chest and the other at the curve of her waist, and D-22560 felt a suspicion that SCP-049’s intentions were not the same as before. That suspicion became a certainty when one hand trailed over her bare breasts, one after the other, squeezing curiously, but softly.

 _No, this isn’t happening_ , she thought to herself as a cold horror took seat in the pit of her stomach. He only stopped to put that hand back to her throat, again not holding her to cause harm but to command. The hand at her waist descended, taking sweet time to brush along her skin, moving aside her panties and two fingers pushed inside her tight passage.

_No… no, no… this can’t be happening…_

D-22560 released a quiet cry, one of utter terror as SCP-049 continued to probe, rubbing against that spot inside that made her stiffen, like he knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

He withdrew his fingers and pulled the girl higher up on his lap, and she felt something hard, something sizeable press against her lower back from beneath the doctor’s clothing. She prayed wordlessly that it wasn’t what she… oh, who was she kidding, it was, of course it was. She knew it was.

Frozen in dread and pinned still against SCP-049’s chest, the D-class could only brace herself as the doctor reached beneath his robes and pulled out his dick. He lined himself up efficiently and pushed inside without a word. As she screamed in pain, he worked his way in further, with urgency. It took some work but soon he was hilted fully, and she could feel his cock throb deep inside of her.

Voices outside the chamber picked up again, more of them, definitely more of them, hollering, arguing amongst themselves, still obscured too much to make out, and this time they didn’t all stop together, they kept going. This _definitely_ wasn’t supposed to happen.

D-22560 whimpered quietly as the doctor moved, grinding in measured strokes, hand still at her throat. With the other hand, SCP-049 kept a tight hold on her hip, pulling her body back onto him in rhythm with his own movements.

After the initial shock was over - long after the initial shock was over D-22560 turned her head to face the mirror, in the researchers’ direction, a desperate plea for help as SCP-049 rutted into her with more and more enthusiasm by the minute. Looking at her own reflection staring back pathetically, and his with his eyes closed in enjoyment, it turned her very stomach just to see it for herself, and the rabble outside went on - so many people, so near.

No one came to help. Tears streamed down her face as she squeezed her eyes shut and turned away, and bowed her head, helpless. They were out there, watching. _Documenting_. No one would step in and put an end to this.

“It would be in your best interest to… let him finish,” came a voice from the speaker, female this time, a southern accent. “For your own safety.”

And then nothing. The voices subsided, and D-22560 was left to her fate. She sobbed as SCP-049 squeezed harder on her throat and issued a stream of involuntary grunts and sighs in her ear. It didn’t hurt any more, if anything it was pretty- no, _no_ , the captive thought to herself as the doctor fucked her erratically, she was _not_ enjoying this, she _didn’t want this_ , she was _not enjoying this!_

For a while D-22560 denied to herself that it felt good, and stifled an instinctive moan of her own every time the monster’s dick rubbed against that sweet spot inside of her. She grit her teeth and pretended to herself, as his pace grew more brutal, that it didn’t feel _so damn good_.

 _I’m not gonna come_ , she thought to herself as she felt herself grow closer to the edge, closer and closer by the second. _I’m not gonna come from this, I **can’t come from this…** please, no, please…_

“ _Fuck…_ ” she whimpered through her teeth.

The girl couldn’t hold back her wail as she was forced to her orgasm in the middle of the room. Trembling, thrashing, still held to SCP-049’s body and squeezing uncontrollably on his dick, her moan was wanton as her every nerve was set on fire, she tried to hold back but just couldn’t. As she climaxed D-22560 could feel the eyes fixed on her from the other side of that mirror, but right now her mind was too numb to feel anything more than utter humiliation.

She came down soon enough, and hung limp in the doctor’s arms. It couldn’t get worse. It couldn’t possibly get worse. All she could do was wait it out. It was a couple of minutes more after that yet it felt like hours to the captive as SCP-049 pounded into her relentlessly. At some point that hand at her throat had come away and wrapped around her shoulders, the other around her middle, and now the doctor was fully upright on his knees, his every thrust desperate, the panting from behind the mask, loud and ragged, seeming to beg for release.

He came with little ceremony. A sharp sigh in the girl’s left ear and hips suddenly stilled, jerking sporadically as his release filled her, and then he was still. SCP-049 didn’t get up, not for a while. He kept D-22560 trapped against him with his arms wrapped around her body, still buried inside of her. His breaths were heavy in her ear and as she knelt flush against him, she could feel his heart raging. The girl was still and silent. _Let him finish_. She felt something rough on her cheek - his hood. He’d rested his head in the crook of her neck.

She just wanted it to end. Why couldn’t he have killed her instead? Why this?

Eventually he let go, and D-22560 collapsed to the floor. For a while she just lay there, unmoving, even when his seed leaked out of her and onto the floor below. She heaved again, and only coughed up saliva.

The rest was something of a blur. The voices were loud, and near, much nearer now. Someone, a human being (thank the fucking lord) grabbed her around the middle and hauled her up. The voices barked orders at each other, and the girl was vaguely aware of lifting her head as she was carried out of the room, and looking back at him. SCP-049 stared back, still knelt there in the centre of the room, he hadn’t gotten up. His eyes followed until she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got some amazing feedback on this so far and I wanted to say a huge thanks to anyone who is reading and enjoying this

What happened next was a blur. D-22560 was taken straight to the on-site hospital. There, she was on observation for days. About eight times in the first two hours, and twice an hour after that for the first day. After that less often, but to her it felt like someone was always by her side taking a vital, and she had a feeling the nurses taking the readings knew nothing of what had happened - not that that was a bad thing. The fluid samples taken from her immediately after she arrived (not her own) were more valuable to the Foundation than she could possibly imagine.

For the rest of her stay, D-22560 was left alone with her questions, so many of them that she doubted would ever be answered, and time - so much time it was impossible to not replay the moment over and over in her head.

Her time in hospital could’ve been worse, she reasoned - she was allowed to get up and walk about the ward since the guards watched her like a hawk and always kept a finger on the triggers of their weapons, and the nurses gave her plenty to read to pass the time. A few days in she was collected by a researcher, who took her to a barren room and grilled her with seemingly endless questions about her medical history. Someone took a blood sample. D-22560 wasn’t stupid, she knew perfectly well that they were trying to figure out exactly why everything went down the way it did.

“I don’t understand,” she finally blurted out - desperate for answers, as the interview ended. She gestured to the three vials filled with her blood, already boxed up and ready to go… wherever it was they were going. “What do you need _that_ for? What’s wrong with me?”

The researcher - Dr Morrigan, that’s what she’d said her name was - lowered her head a little and fixed D-22560 with a serious gaze over the rim of her glasses. “You weren’t supposed to survive him putting his hand to you,” she said. “You’re the only one who has. Up until now we assumed 049’s touch was _always_ fatal.”

The girl recalled the look of sheer surprise in SCP-049’s eyes when he first touched her. She remembered the enthusiasm with which he examined her. “Then why did _I_ live when no one else did?”

“That’s what we need to find out.”

“So is that why… why he did it?” D-22560 asked hesitantly. “Because there was no one else?”

“The short version?” Morrigan replied, shifting uncomfortably. “We don’t know. We’ve never seen him do anything like… _that_ … before.”

“Oh.”

The girl lowered her head and stared absently into her lap. Somehow, knowing the situation was _entirely_ unique to her was an even more unsettling thought. Maybe even more concerning - why was Morrigan telling her all this? No one ever told D-class anything in this place.

Her brown eyes flicked back up to Morrigan’s hazel. “Why me though?”

The researcher indicated the box of vials on the table between them with the hand not holding onto her tablet. “There’s a reason you’re immune, and when we know what _makes_ you immune, we can look for others like you. It’s going to help _our_ study.”

She stood, and D-22560 did the same. Morrigan picked up the box, and beckoned D-22560 to follow her. “I’ll take you to your room.”

The D-class said nothing, only following. As the women walked, the guards again raised their weapons on instinct, and for the first time the girl was mildly _insulted_ by that. As if she’d try anything now, make a run for it… it wasn’t like she could live on the outside after this. She’d need the Foundation’s help if she was- fuck… now _that_ was a thought that hadn’t crossed her mind so far. Could he have… could she be…?

Suddenly D-22560 felt like she was going to hurl. Morrigan stowed her tablet under one arm and put her hand on the girl’s shoulder - her discomfort must’ve showed. When the girl turned her head, she noticed the researcher looked at her with some level of sympathy. Like she wanted to know she was okay. The D-class shrugged her off and turned away, keeping her eyes trained on the length of the corridors as they walked together. She didn’t deserve any sympathy from anyone. There was a reason she was here in the first place.

*

*

*

“It is good to see you again, Doctor.”

“Likewise,” Morrigan replied. She typed something on her tablet, taking her eyes away from the being sat restrained on the opposite side of the table.

“I assume you will be asking further questions regarding the ‘incident’?” SCP-049 asked.

Morrigan looked up at him again. “Yes, since I’m in charge of that facet of your containment, you can expect that from me,” she said. “What I really want to get to the bottom of today, SCP-049…”

The woman paused, not entirely sure of the words she was about to use. “As you’ll recall we’ve sent three patients to you since the incident with D-22560 who are _also_ immune to…”

When Morrigan trailed off again, SCP-049 nodded his head once, slowly, in understanding. His demeanour was calm yet, at that, his eyes shone with excitement.

“To the effects of your touch on their skin,” she finally said. “It didn’t kill them.”

“Indeed, they have been of utmost value,” he said, his tone only further betraying his happiness. “Not often these days am I presented with the opportunity to examine my patients prior to their death… if more immune patients can be sourced you would, of course, have my gratitude.”

“We will try,” Morrigan said curtly. “To be entirely honest with you, we weren’t expecting you to euthanise them. We… were expecting a repeat of the incident.”

SCP-049 seemed vaguely amused at that. Within his restraints, he shifted a little. “Were you disappointed? You are aware I request patients to further my research, Doctor. Not for recreational activities.”

“Disappointed… no. _Confused_ would be better. You can’t fault us for wanting to know _why_ you forced yourself on _one_ subject - immune or not - and not the others. What was it about _her_ that made you… react _that_ way?”

The doctor looked off thoughtfully, and deliberated for a moment. “That… I cannot say. I fear I do not know what came over me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You must understand,” SCP-049 said, leaning in as best he could despite the chains at his neck. Morrigan followed suit. “My work keeps me so busy, it takes up the majority of my time. There shall be plenty of time for sex once I have perfected my Cure. For now, however… it is _anything_ but a priority. I am simply far too busy.”

“So why did you do it? With her?”

“I was… not myself at the time.”

“So would you say-”

Morrigan quickly interrupted herself. SCP-049 cocked his head, curious.

“What might I say?”

“You’ll have to excuse me,” Morrigan said. “That was a leading question - I’m not here to put words in your mouth.”

“Ask it,” SCP-049 replied. “And I shall decide if it is valid.”

Morrigan typed rapidly as she spoke, not answering for a short while to catch up on her notes. “Would you say… you lost control?”

It was, again, a while before he answered. “Perhaps I did lose control of myself.”

“Was it something about _her?_ ”

SCP-049 shook his head rapidly, he was clearly growing impatient. “I _do not know_. The details evade me now. I cannot aid you further than this, your guess is as good as my own.”

“In that case, I’m terminating the interview here.”

The doctor said nothing for a moment, only watching Morrigan get to her feet. She made for the door.

“What is her name?” he suddenly asked.

Morrigan turned back, frozen in place. “You mean the girl? D-22560.”

A longer moment of silence between them, they stared each other down, before he spoke again. “What was her name?”

That was information nobody had immediately at hand. Morrigan navigated pages on her tablet for a minute or so before pulling up the girl’s details to the question she herself had never thought to ask.

“███,” she said. “Her name was ███.”

*

*

*

D-22560 sat on her bed, knees drawn somewhere near her chest and a sketchpad rested on top. The covers pooled at her feet, keeping them warm. The room was so quiet as she focused on her drawing, but the silence didn’t bother her.

Right now things were strange. The girl was never taken back to her cell, instead Morrigan took her to a room of her own - not a cell, but a _room_ , with a bathroom all to herself. This in itself was an adjustment for her - it had been quite a while since she’d had this kind of privacy.

She was left in this room and only a few minutes after that, someone she didn’t recognise came in. He dropped off a tablet loaded with games and a few movies, and asked if D-22560 wanted anything else to pass the time. Not needed - _wanted_. She asked for paper and pencils so she could draw, but when the same man returned maybe an hour later, he brought an entire blank sketchpad for her.

It was very strange indeed as D-class to suddenly go from having her needs met to her _wants_ being met. She was even allowed to walk over to the cafeteria to eat - with a party of guards stuck to her like glue, maybe, but it was like she wasn’t even D-class any more. Not civilian personnel like the janitors, but maybe something in between. Every now and then over these last several weeks someone had come to take more blood - the girl knew that her “immunity” made her far too valuable for the organisation to do away with like the other D-class. They were keeping her around, for the time being at least.

Whatever had happened that day - luckily for D-22560 the details were more hazy now - for whatever reason it happened to _her_ , it had saved her life. Whatever kind of a life this was, anyway.

Nothing was a bigger relief than getting her period. Since then the girl had relaxed a little - things could definitely be worse right now. D-22560’s head snapped up as she heard the telltale sound of a keycard unlocking her door. This was her life now - lying here in wait until the various personnel took whatever sample it was they needed from her for their latest test. But, she reasoned, as Morrigan crossed the room and approached the bed, she got her period, so she wasn’t complaining about a thing.

Morrigan leaned over to see D-22560’s progress on the drawing. She'd spent a few days working on it - she was drawing SCP-049 from memory. Surprisingly detailed. Surprisingly _good_. The girl had talent. Maybe she was an artist before her prison sentence. Maybe, in another life, she could’ve made something of herself.

“You got the eyes perfect,” she contributed.

The researcher was met with only the scratching of a pencil on the page as the girl worked.

She seemed to ignore her visitor. Morrigan - the head of this investigation - came to see her when there was _news_ to speak of.

“What’s happened?” the girl eventually asked, setting down her pencil and sketchpad.

Morrigan took a seat, settling herself on a stool beside the bed. Her hands rested in her lap, she leaned in. “049 didn’t react the way we… …those other three girls? The ones we spoke about last time?”

D-22560 nodded quickly. “Yeah, what happened?”

“He didn’t… _have sex_ with them. He euthanised them. Looks like it was only you.”

She didn’t really know what to say to that. “Oh… okay. Why?”

“We don’t know,” Morrigan said simply. A shrug of her shoulders, the tiniest amount of vulnerability this woman had shown over the whole two months they’d known each other. “We don’t know why it was you in the _first_ place.”

Her expression grew dark. “I’m going to be straightforward about this. There’s been a _lot_ of talk. Everyone’s agreed there’s only _one_ way to find out for sure. I argued in your defense but the decision wasn’t mine to make, my superiors went over my head - they’re- _we’re_ sending you back in… and we’re expecting a repeat of the last time.”

“...Oh.”

A tight knot formed somewhere inside of the girl. A part of her had expected this. Maybe that was why she took the news with nothing but acceptance - she was doomed to this from the very start.

“We’ll be keeping a close eye on the encounter-”

“Like _that_ makes me feel better about-”

“ _Which means_ 049 is under strict orders not to _euthanise_ you,” Morrigan cut her off sternly. “For what it’s worth, I’m _personally_ sorry we’re having you do this, but it needs to be done. For the good of the Foundation.” She got to her feet, and gestured for D-22560 to follow.

_I hate the Foundation._

There was no other option. After changing into a T-shirt and sweat pants - something more _accessible_ than her jumpsuit - she followed the researcher out of her room and along corridors she’d herself started getting acquainted with in the last couple of months. Soon they arrived at SCP-049’s chamber, where a full party of researchers and D-class - and even more armed guards - had gathered, ready for the experiment to begin. D-22560 was scanned. She was aware of little beyond the numbness inside of her.

A gentle hand on the girl’s arm, and Morrigan looked at her, encouraging, as everybody assumed their stations. “Try not to be afraid, we’re here if things get out of hand,” she said, before opening the door to the containment chamber and ushering her in.

D-22560’s mind was entirely empty. Like a robot or a puppet, with only the capacity to do as directed, she stepped in and immediately caught sight of the hulking figure, like a demonic, avian shadow against the harsh light behind him. At least there was no corpse on the operating table this time around - it was actually somewhat bearable to be in the chamber without it. SCP-049 raised his hooded head and stared her down as the door shut behind.

“███.”

It was a few seconds before SCP-049 gathered himself fully - actually seeming a little uncomfortable in the presence of the girl - before beckoning her over to be examined for a second time. She was vaguely aware of her legs moving under her and taking her towards him.

As she approached, she felt the back of his hand at her forehead again, and decided, despite the howling, raging numbness in her head, that she was most definitely afraid. How could she not be afraid?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All is not as it seems.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, wow, okay. First thing is I didn't expect the kind of reaction to this that it got. People have said some amazing things which have really stuck with me so for everyone who's enjoyed this, upvoted this and given kind words, seriously I love all of you so much. I was so anxious about uploading this and all the nice words have really eased my mind.
> 
> I said I might keep going with this if enough people were interested and the people have spoken. This gets a sequel once I finish another project I'm working on. I hope it satisfies.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Acquainted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19405723) by [EmpireforAshes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpireforAshes/pseuds/EmpireforAshes)




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